What, you don't like the way I chew?!
There exist two main types of parental arguments; the riproaringly horrific ones, the ones which mean crawling up stairs holding ears closed and cringing away from words of nastiness bouncing back from both sides.
And there are the funny ones. Where one or both are slightly inebriated. Where one or both have to pinch the corners of their mouths tight and think thoughts about the budgie flying away to stop themselves from laughing out loud. Where arguments go round and round, and the words get more ridiculous the later it gets. Where accusations no longer make sense, where there is no POINT to anything anyone says anymore, and you argue just for the sake of it.
Where, when it's over, you laugh and laugh and laugh, and blame the cheap Chardonay bottle standing amongst the dishes. Where you want to say, why did you say that, aren't you cringing inside after those words which came out so amazingly badly? And why are you not laughing; is it a given rule that the older you get, the less able you are to laugh at yourself? Or with others? And there is no point in snarling when we are laughing, it only makes us laugh harder.
These are the arguments I can't help analysing. Sitting for an hour every night with my parents could almost be classed as Critical Thinking Revision. And there is a straw person argument. And ad hominem. And appeal to rationality. Slippery slope. I spoke outloud accidentally at one point, and it made them stop.
The subject has two main purposes.
So what, it doesn't count as a grade towards uni requirements in every case. So what, it doesn't make me a better arguer; I still get tangled up in my own words, still lose my breath mid sentence/thought, dumb-founded by the brilliance of the arguments of others. (Ah yes, but why is the fridge door open?) I still wish, every time I argue, that I could submit an essay, that we could argue with a Battle Of The Essays.
Despite all this, I still think it gives me more of a sense of rationality, the ability to analyse an argument in terms of structure and flaws. More importantly, it has the amazing potential to stop arguers in their tracks!
And there are the funny ones. Where one or both are slightly inebriated. Where one or both have to pinch the corners of their mouths tight and think thoughts about the budgie flying away to stop themselves from laughing out loud. Where arguments go round and round, and the words get more ridiculous the later it gets. Where accusations no longer make sense, where there is no POINT to anything anyone says anymore, and you argue just for the sake of it.
Where, when it's over, you laugh and laugh and laugh, and blame the cheap Chardonay bottle standing amongst the dishes. Where you want to say, why did you say that, aren't you cringing inside after those words which came out so amazingly badly? And why are you not laughing; is it a given rule that the older you get, the less able you are to laugh at yourself? Or with others? And there is no point in snarling when we are laughing, it only makes us laugh harder.
These are the arguments I can't help analysing. Sitting for an hour every night with my parents could almost be classed as Critical Thinking Revision. And there is a straw person argument. And ad hominem. And appeal to rationality. Slippery slope. I spoke outloud accidentally at one point, and it made them stop.
The subject has two main purposes.
So what, it doesn't count as a grade towards uni requirements in every case. So what, it doesn't make me a better arguer; I still get tangled up in my own words, still lose my breath mid sentence/thought, dumb-founded by the brilliance of the arguments of others. (Ah yes, but why is the fridge door open?) I still wish, every time I argue, that I could submit an essay, that we could argue with a Battle Of The Essays.
Despite all this, I still think it gives me more of a sense of rationality, the ability to analyse an argument in terms of structure and flaws. More importantly, it has the amazing potential to stop arguers in their tracks!
kiwiqueen - 21. Apr, 00:23
